


Yield

by blindedbylight



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Frottage, Gladnoct Week, M/M, Size Difference, Sparring, gladnoct - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 10:03:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12838866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blindedbylight/pseuds/blindedbylight
Summary: Noctis needs a victory to get what he wants. Failure is not an option.Written for Gladnoct Week Day 1 - Simple Prompt : Size difference





	Yield

Sweat dripped down Noct's face, ink black strands of messy hair clinging to his forehead, sweatshirt sticking to his back, the overlong sleeves bunched up around his elbows. His ribs and shoulder hurt, arms bruised from shield bashes. He narrowed his eyes and planted his feet, straightening his stance.   
  
He couldn't screw this up.  
  
He took one deep breath between his panting and then threw his blade, launching himself through crystal space -disorienting and cold and blinding blue as always, and emerged in a shower of luminous shards, aimed feet first at his opponent's undefended back, blade in hand.  
  
Heart leaping at the advantage, he went in for the kill, a triumphant smile splitting his face. No mercy.  
  
He planted both feet on his man's broad back and kicked forward hard, his own satisfaction surging as he watched the man stumble forward in surprise. Flipping, he smashed the flat side of his engine blade on the inside of Gladio's twisting knee - too late, big guy! - a flash of lightning from his right hand snaking out towards the inside of the other.   
  
Still mid air, he threw the engine blade again, watched it embed in the training room floor and flung himself into a warp after it just past the stumbling man's shoulder, pulse pounding. The smooth cool grip of the sword's hilt in his hands steadied him as he reappeared. He quickly looked over his own shoulder, twisting at the waist to kick out, one foot hitting his opponents solar plexus, the other foot striking the base of his throat across the collarbones.  
  
Landing on his feet, he watches Gladio fall backwards, eyes wide with shock.   
  
Gladio hits the training room floor with a satisfying smack and Noct feels like he can feel the vibration of it in the soles of his boots.  
  
He yanks his sword out of the floor and walks over to Gladio's prone body, anticipation and sweet victory thrumming in his veins. He stands over him, legs on either side of his hips, panting with exertion and want. He raises his eyebrow at him and grins.  
  
Gladio still looks a bit shocked, massive chest heaving as he lies sprawled on the floor, legs open in threadbare sweatpants. One large hand rubs across his upper abs over a dark grey Crownsguard tank top, clinging to the tan skin of his chest and abs with sweat. His amber eyes are dark and considering on Noctis, pupils wide. He looks to one side of the room at his sword, then down to his other side where he had dropped his shield. Finally, he throws his head back and laughs, and the husky sound of it sends a shiver down Noct's back.  
  
Noctis licks his lips and edges the tip of the blade under the bottom of Gladios tank top, careful not to touch the skin of his heaving stomach. He twists his wrist and slides the sharp edge up, watching the fabric slice away and open, revealing the defined lines of Gladio's abs bit by tantalizing bit. Noct's gaze zeroes in on his nipples and the blue-black ink of the eagle tattooed into his left pec.  
  
"Aww, big bad Gladio gotten taken down by his little prince. What would the other Crownsguard say, do you think?" He traces the blade in a small circle just over the eagle's beak.  
  
Gladio pants and glares up at him briefly. "That kick in the chest hurt, you little shit," he grumbles at him, changing the subject. He's still chuckling a little ,though, and his eyes are still dark and roaming over him. He's still hot for this.  
  
Still hot for him.  
  
Noct shrugs, smirking. "You asked me to start taking training more seriously." He pulls the edge of the baggy grey sweatshirt up - Crownsguard issue and pilfered from Gladio's closet just to rile him up and distract him - to wipe at the sweat on his face. He watched Gladio's eyes snap down to the bit of his exposed stomach and swipe his tongue across his lower lip.  
  
"Nothin’ to do with our little wager, then?" Gladio looks up at him and grins wickedly, eyes glinting.  
  
"You backing out?" Noctis moves the sword's tip a little, and traces a delicate line down the center of Gladio's pecs and abs. They both track it's slow progress to the top of Gladio's waistband with their eyes.  
  
'I'm a man of my word.' He's never heard Gladio sound like that before, his voice rumbling and deep. It makes his hands shake.  
  
Noctis drops the engine blade into the armiger with barely a second thought and sinks down until he's seated over Gladio's lower abs and waist, knees on the floor. Gladio’s huge hands slip from his knees up his thighs, smoothing his palms and fingers under the sweatshirt and onto the fever hot skin of his torso. Noctis plants his hands on Gladio's huge shoulders, arches his back and groans.  
  
"If only I’d known that getting dicked was what would motivate you." Gladio's hands sweep upwards and he brushes his thumbs over Noct's tight nipples. Noctis pants as he wraps a hand around the metal 'x ' on Gladio's throat, twists his hand in the chain and hauls him up into a messy kiss, sinking a hand into the lengthening hair at Gladio's nape.  
  
Gladio groans when Noctis pulls back for air, and the sight of his kiss swollen lips makes him feel light headed. Noct tightens his grip in his hair. "Don't forget which one of us is getting dicked, big guy." Gladio's answering chuckle goes straight to his groin.  
  
It's Noct's turn to hit the mat, then, and Gladio wastes no time pressing his body against him. Noctis runs his hands - finally, gods, finally - over the slick skin of Gladio's chest and abs, feeling covered and hot and overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. Gladio cages his head in with his forearms, fists on the floor, and rocks his hips down. They both groan at the first feel of their cocks grinding together through the fabric of their pants.  
  
Gladio leans his weight on one arm and pulls the fabric of his sweatshirt away from Noct's collarbone. He sucks there and then nips his way up Noct's neck to his ear. "You did good, Noct," he rumbles. Noctis presses his hands up Gladio’s muscled back and into his hair again, groaning. Gladio twists his hips against him, harder and more devastating than before. "Real good. Knew you had it in you."  
  
Noctis rocks up against him, head thrown back. He can sense the building desperation between them both. Taste it in the air.   
  
Gladio slows the pace of their hips and starts to sit up. He tucks his thumbs into the front of his waistband and trails them along the line of his waist, stopping at his hipbones and rolls it down a little, revealing a little of the 'v' below his abs. He tilts his head to the side, eyes heavy lidded and panting mouth open. He grinds down against Noct's dick, eyeing Noctis like he might devour him. He rolls his shoulders under the fabric of his sliced open tank top and smirks.  
  
"I'm a man of my word, Noct. Let me take you for a ride."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> N: You're hot. I'm hot. We should bang!  
> G: *laughs* I'm flattered, but I'm not your speed. You need to focus more on training and less on my ass.  
> N: What if I beat you? Will you do me then?  
> G: You beat me, Noct, and _you_ can do _me_.
> 
>  
> 
> ~~He really wants you to beat him, Noct. He really really does.~~
> 
>  
> 
> In my head, this goes down about a year before the roadtrip from hell.


End file.
